Mended Wings
by Melody of Oblivion
Summary: What if Christine had not been so afraid of Erik, if he had given her less reasons to fear him? Slight twist on the original story. Based on the 2004 movie. Bolder Christine. Please review! Chapter 3 ending edited slightly.
1. Chapter 1

Mended Wings

**Summary**: What if Christine had not been so afraid of Erik, if he had given her less reasons to fear him? Slight twist on the original story. Based on the 2004 movie. Bolder Christine.

She couldn't hold her curiosity in. One moment she was caressing his face, the next she was prying his mask off. In a matter of seconds, her angel went from gentle and calm to angry and harsh. He stood up, covering his face with his hand and throwing her on the floor. He yelled at her, called her names, cursed her. She was terrified, regretting that she had ever touched him.

Eventually, he stopped. He then began to sing. The song told of how lonely he was, how he lived in darkness all alone, and how he thought himself a hideous monster. He had hoped that she could look past this, and see him as a man, and not a creature. He loved her, longed for her, needed her. When the song finished, he sat next to her on the floor and turned away, ashamed. Her heart went out to him. Though he had frightened her when he yelled, she was not afraid of him now. He seemed so broken, so sad.

She reached out a hand and touched his shoulder softly. "Angel," he looked at her, a hand still covering his face. Tentatively, hoping he would not become angry again, she closed her hand around his wrist and pulled his hand away from his face. Her eyes studied him. "It's not…so bad…" she meant it. It could be worse, after all. It could be not only part of his face, but his entire face, or even his entire body. Seeing for the first time was shocking, but she knew she could quickly grow used to it. Even now, it did not frighten her at all.

He chucked sarcastically. "You needn't lie to me, my dear. I know it is revolting." The words he spoke only increased the great deal of sympathy she had for him. Feeling more bold by the second, she took his hand and he looked, surprised, into her eyes.

"I think," she said, "that you're beautiful." She meant that, too. His eyes had a deep sea green color to them and the side of his face that was not disfigured was soft and quite handsome. In fact, if it weren't for the disfigurement, he would be perfect.

He could not respond to her words; he was in complete shock. She decided to lighten the mood a little. "That is, when you're not yelling." She smiled at him.

It seemed she had only succeeded in making him more upset. He did not smile, but looked away, angry with himself. "I'm sorry about that. I did not mean to frighten you, Christine. I was afraid that when you saw my deformity, you would leave me and never come back."

Her hold on his hand tightened. "I am not so shallow." She wondered what horrors he must have gone through in his past to be so insecure about his distortion. She was about to ask him, but he stood said that he should bring her back above ground, because she was surely missed by more that a few.

Erik felt strangely lighter than he usually did as he led her to the gondola. He expected nothing but the worst when she pulled off his mask. He thought she would be disgusted to see his ugliness, and would ask him to never bother her again. But instead she seemed to accept him, to not care what he looked like. Perhaps he was not a fool to think that maybe someday she would come to love him as he loved her.

They were almost at the mirror now, when Christine stopped walking and turned to face him. "Before I go," she said, "could you tell me what your name is?" 

"Erik. My name is Erik."

(A/N): The ending is lame, I know. I'm going to change the story around a little, so those of you who love Violent!Erik and Murderer!Erik will probably not be happy. Christine will be a little bolder and more outspoken than she is in the movie/book/musical, because I can't stand Incredibly-Pliant-Minded!Christine. R&R please. Criticism accepted.


	2. Chapter 2

Christine lay on the sofa (1) in her dressing room. She felt slightly dizzy. Her head spun whenever she thought about the events of last night and this morning. After all these years, it had turned out that her teacher is not an angel, but a man. And none other than the phantom of the opera! She should've been angry with him, upset that he had deceived her, yet she could not bring herself to hate him. After all, he had been so kind to her for so many years. When she was younger, she would always cry while lighting the candle for her father. Erik was always there to console her, comfort her and end her sorrow. And he had so selflessly worked with her on her singing, pushing her to perfection.

She pondered her feelings for him. She knew she felt sympathy for him, but was that all? Was that what pulled slightly at her heartstrings whenever she thought of him? Or was it something deeper?

Her thoughts were interrupted as the door opened and Meg and her mother came in. Meg immediately ran over to her, asking her where she had gone and if she was alright. Christine did not think it was wise to tell her what had happened, so she just said she was tired and did not feel like talking about it. As Meg pushed on, arguing that she would not tell a soul, Christine's eyes wandered over to Madame Giry. She stood near the door, not saying a word. Christine had the feeling Madame Giry knew exactly where she was last night. The woman had the incredible talent of knowing everything that went on in the theater. It seemed that nothing could get past her sharp gaze. 

When Christine did not let up, Meg finally decided to leave her alone. Christine requested that Madame Giry let no one bother her for now. She did not give a reason, but the woman understood too well why Christine wanted to be left alone. Unfortunately, she did not have much privacy to sort out her thoughts, because tonight was the first night that the opera-house would be performing _Il Muto_. The night was even more hectic that usual because there was a change of plans. Carlotta had returned and resumed her original role of Countess, leaving Christine to play Serafimo. Christine was too lost in thought, even as the performance began, to be upset. She managed to snap out of it by the time the scene _'Poor Fool, He Makes Me Laugh_' began.

Erik looked down at the performance from where he was standing on the circular walkway that ran around the grand chandelier. It infuriated him that the managers and the rest of them had so blatantly disobeyed his commands. They were fools for giving that old witch the role which Christine could have played so much better. He wanted to punish them, make them understand that if he ordered something, it would be **done**, no questions asked. He had already switched Carlotta's throat spray and was awaiting her to start croaking like the frog she was. He would have felt much more comfortable waiting in his usual spot in Box Five, but that was occupied by the Vicomte de Chagny. Anger coursed through him again as he said, "Did I not instruct that Box Five was to be kept empty?" His voice reverberated off the ceiling and the walls, making him sound so loud and fearsome, that the chandelier itself seemed to tremble.

The performers and audience members were surprised and looked nervously around for the origin of the voice. It was finally Meg Giry who said what everyone was thinking: The Phantom of Opera. As Christine agreed with her, he could tell she seemed to be anxious herself. He was then delighted to see Carlotta momentarily go offstage to spray her throat. Not long after she reassumed her spot and began to sing did a huge '_CROAK_' come out instead of the note. Some laughter erupted from the audience as her fellow performers and those backstage looked at each other in horror and shock. Again Carlotta began, more timidly this time. And again came a great '_CROAK_'. Pleased that his plan had worked and feeling his work was done for today, he left the walkway through a door that had been behind him.

He was being followed. He could sense it. He did not have to look to know that it was Buquet, the stagehand. Erik had never been fond of him. He was a lecherous old man who gave Christine and the other young girls more than friendly looks. It enraged Erik to have his pure, innocent Christine looked at like a piece of meat. Buquet also loved to tell stories about the Opera Ghost, how he was a repulsive looking fiend that enjoyed hanging others. He had been getting on Erik's nerves for quite a while, and now that he was snooping around, he decided to put Buquet in his place. 

Erik quickened his pace. Soon enough, Buquet lost his trail, and paused to stare at the frantic and confused ballet dancers try to perform while around them the scenery was haphazardly being changed to that of their scene in Act III. He then continued to search, walking on the upstage ramps held up ropes and looking around for any sign of movement. He had no idea that he was being watched. Erik followed him, careful not to reveal his presence until the right moment.

When Buquet could not find anyone, he became quite nervous. Suspecting that _he_ was now the one being tailed, he walked faster, wanting to get down to the stage and safety as soon as possible. He turned to make sure there was no one behind him, and came face to face with the infamous phantom. Fear erupted in his heart, and he turned once more and ran for his life. He climbed up the rope holding up the ramp, but the phantom did not follow him. He climbed up a different rope entirely, and ended up on the ramp opposite Buquet's. Buquet was becoming quite frenzied. If he ran to the left, the phantom did the same. The same happened if he tried the right. His heartbeat was deafening to him; he couldn't think. He darted to the right as fast as he could, hoping to outrun Erik.

He did not look to see what Erik was doing, but simply ran across the ramp that led to the stairs. Erik had climbed up the rope again, and quickly moved to the end of the ramp Buqet was almost across. The stagehand knew all hope was lost as Erik violently shook the ramp, and Buquet fell. The 'magical lasso' he so bravely spoke of only the night before really did seem to come out of nowhere, and in moments was around his neck.

Erik did not care that Buquet was shamelessly begging for his life, he had planned for revenge, and now he would have it. He blocked all thoughts from his head as he tightened the Punjab lasso around the stagehand's neck. Why should he pity Buquet now when the man did not pity him? He didn't once stop to think before he made fun of Erik, insulted him and laughed at him. Rage built up inside of him. He pulled the rope tighter and tighter. The stagehand was turning blue. He would be dead in moments….

_'You're beautiful…when you're not yelling…'_ He could hear his angel's sweet voice in his head. _She_ had pitied him. Cried for him. In those few moments that he was with her, he felt human, not like the monster he was being now. She had seen the worst of him – his disfigurement and his anger, yet she seemed to only see the good in him. What would she think of him if he did kill Buquet? Would she let his blood-tainted hands touch her pure, innocent body?

His hands loosed on the rope. He would not kill Buquet. He had to live up to the angel Christine saw him as. Erik swiftly removed the Punjab lasso from the stagehand's neck. Buquet was too stunned and dazed from the lack of air to move of say anything. Erik fixed him with a murderous gaze. "Leave. Leave and never return. Tell no one of this occurrence or I will track you down and finish this." That seemed to give Buquet all the strength he needed. He nodded, his eyes full of fear, struggled to get up and staggered across the ramp to the stairs, not daring to look back.

Erik watched him run. When Buquet disappeared down the stairs, he looked down to the stage to see the ballet had ended, and Christine, dressed as the Countess, had taken center stage. He was slightly unsatisfied with his revenge on the managers but decided that his point had come across: what he says goes. After a few proud minutes spent watching his student make the audience laugh with her splendid acting and charm them with her sweet voice, he moved from his spot back to the circular walkway that ran around the chandelier, where he could see her best.

(A/N): That was much longer than the first chapter. I'm not too good with describing "action" scenes, but I hope that wasn't too terrible.  
The next chapter will be Christine-centered, starting right after she begins to change into the Countess' costume in her dress room  
(1) I'm not sure if there's actually a sofa there. If there isn't, I hope you're all not too upset that I made it up  
If you're reading this now, you probably have read the entire chapter, and have some thoughts on it. Please, share them. Did you like it, didn't you like it, why, should I continue, should I stop, what corrections/changes should I make…etc…Please tell me, I truly value your opinions.  
The next chapter will not be easy for me to write. The story is diverging from the original, and my imagination isn't as good as it could be. So please. If you want me to continue, review.


	3. Chapter 3

Christine tried to clear her mind of all thoughts except those that would prepare her for the role she was about to play. But she could think of nothing other than her teacher. It was his voice that had boomed across the theater tonight. And she knew it could only be his fault that Carlotta had lost her voice. He was doing it all for her and she knew it, but she didn't find comfort in it. He was so devoted to her; he did not care much about others' feelings. Not that she really was too fond of Carlotta, but was it necessary to embarrass her in front of the entire audience?

She shook her head; it was starting to pound dully. She needed to be well and ready for the performance. Erik had practiced the part with her many times. She had wondered why she was preparing for a role that was not hers, but she did not want to question her teacher. If she had known what he had planned, she surely would have asked him not to go through with it.

Madame Giry pulled the strings of the corset too tightly then. She tried to suppress the gasp that was about to escape her, but had no luck. "Too tight?" Madame Giry asked. Christine looked at her through the mirror and nodded. Their eyes met. "Nervous?" Christine nodded once more. "Try to calm down, my dear. You'll do fine." When this didn't seem to do anything to help the girl relax, she added, "_He_ believes in you." Her eyes focused on the table across the room from the mirror. Christine looked over to it, confused, only to see the red rose with a black ribbon whose author was no secret. She picked it up and stared at it. She had found many of these before, had never put too much thought to the meaning behind them. She had always assumed that it was a symbol of approval. Her teacher was telling her that he was proud. But was that all? Or did it have a deeper meaning? A red rose, after all, represented deep and passionate love.

Her heart fluttered. She remembered the wax figure of her in a wedding dress. So he did love her. But did she feel the same? Madame Giry undoubtedly sensed her perplexity and put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright, my dear?" Christine stared at the rose, unsure of what to answer. She felt as though her mind had been severely jumbled. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the woman's eyes through the mirror. "He didn't…hurt you?" Christine's gaze dropped to the floor and she shook her head.

"I saw his face…" she said absently. Madame Giry looked shocked. She walked around to face Christine and placed both her hands on her shoulders. Christine looked up. "I think he loves me, Madame. And I think I—" There was a knock on the door and the managers walked in. They were still rattled by what had happened and asked if Christine was ready to put on the skirt and wig. When they saw that she was only in the first layer of underclothing, they became frantic. Madame Giry calmed them down but suggesting they skip the second layer and jewelry and move right on to the make up and third layer. Christine tried not to inhale when the powder was applied to her face and collarbone area. When the dress and wig were put on, she felt awkward, as if she were a tent. The skirt was very large and difficult to move in, and she was afraid that a wrong nod of her head would cause the wig to fall.

To loosen up she tried to keep her mind on other things, like how the other roles have changed. Carlotta was apparently too shaken up to be onstage right now, because Meg was dressed in the Pageboy's costume. One of the ballet dancers was in Meg's role of the maid. Meg spotted her and walked over to her.

"How are you, Christine? You look pale…" Christine grinned at her.

"It's the make-up, Meg." Meg grinned back. Christine knew Meg was only trying to cheer her up. Although she felt in a moment Meg would revert back to her interrogation of Christine, to find out what happened to her last night. When Meg's grin faded and her face turned serious, she was glad to hear "Places!" shouted by Firmin, and took her proper spot on the bed beside Meg as the music started up. The curtains opened.

The Opera had gone fairly well. The audience loved Christine. They were slightly tired of seeing Carlotta as the star every single time. Christine was softer on the eyes and ears, and much more charming. Christine knew Carlotta's part quite well. Everything went smoothly. In Act III, the ballet was skipped, but the audience did not seem to mind. Everyone had enjoyed themselves immensely. They did not, as the managers feared, feel cheated by what happened, but instead found the whole occurrence rather funny. At the end, they gave a standing ovation. Christine felt much better once the ordeal was over with. She was glad to have the skirt and wig finally off. She walked into her dressing room to find it flooded with flowers as it had been the night of her performance in Hannibal. Sighing in fatigue, she collapsed in the chair in front of her mirror, crossing her arms and putting her head down. A moment later she raised her head to look at the rose with a black ribbon that lay on the table. It was the same one she had seen before the performance.

Christine barely had any time to change out of the remainder of her costume when there came a knock on the door and Raoul walked in. "You were wonderful, Christine! Carlotta could have never done that well." Christine smiled and thanked him. "I had a perfect view in the beginning from Box Five, but then the managers asked me to sit someplace else after you took her part over. They actually seem to believe that the Opera Ghost is real."

"He _is_ real, Raoul. Didn't you hear him before? And Carlotta's croaking?"

Raoul shook his head, unconvinced. "She has been singing for a long while, I've heard. It's not so surprising that she lost her voice after all this time." Christine was surprised at his stubbornness.

"I've _seen_ him."

Her friend stared at her a moment, not knowing what to say. "Are you sure you weren't…dreaming?" he asked. Christine shook her head.

"No…but it did seem so….He took me to his home. I was in shock, at first, that he was tangible, and not an angel like he led me to believe. But then he sang to me. His voice…it filled my spirit and made my heart soar…" Her eyes closed in reminiscence.

"He _kidnapped_ you!"

"No, Raoul, no. I went willingly. And he did not keep me there against my will. He didn't hurt me."

Raoul sighed. Something would have to be done about this "ghost". But meanwhile, he had other things to think about. "Christine," he opened the door of her dressing room, "would you come with me for a moment? There is something I need to discuss with you, but I'd prefer to do it somewhere…more accommodating." Christine gave him a confused look but stood up and followed him. "You might want to take your cloak," he added.

He led her to the roof. Christine was glad he told her to bring the cloak along because it was very cold. It was only the month of November, but there was already snow on the ground. She shivered and pulled the cloak tighter around her body. "Why have you brought me here?" Whatever it was that he wanted to discuss, did it have to be in the freezing cold? She loosened he grip slightly, as to not hurt the rose she had taken with her.

Raoul smiled at her. "Christine…Do you remember when we first met?"

"Of course. You saved my scarf." She smiled back, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.

"From that very moment, I knew I never wanted to part with you. I care for you, Christine. More than a friend should. If you let me, I'll be by your side forever, to keep you safe and happy."

Christine looked at him in utter surprise. He was surely asking her to marry him! Though she loved him very much, it was love that one had for a dear friend, not a husband. She knew she had to tell him this, but she was afraid of hurting him. He really did seem to love her. But what could she do? Marrying him to spare him the pain of rejection was out of the question. "I…I will think about it." She smiled at him again, hoping he would accept such an answer.

Raoul had expected a "Yes," but he supposed Christine did not want to rush into marriage, being only a girl of 16. "Alright, Lotte. Take all the time you need." He smiled back and left. Christine sighed at walked over to the edge of the roof. What a stupid thing she had done! She had given him hope. Now it would sting even more when she told him she did not feel the same. She hugged the rose to her and cursed her senselessness. It began to snow. As the temperature seemed to drop further and further by the minute, she decided it was time to go back. When she turned around, she was taken aback to see Erik standing in front of her.

"Erik…you frightened me….I…wanted to ask you….Carlotta's croaking….It was your doing, wasn't it?"

He smiled darkly. "Of course. She needed to be put in her place. Her diva attitude has been getting on my nerves for too long. And you perform her parts so much better…"

"That doesn't matter. Erik, you greatly embarrassed her! That wasn't nice!"

"And it wasn't nice of her to call you a toad, or for the managers to disobey my commands."

Christine exhaled sharply. She decided to change the subject. "Did you see me perform tonight?" Erik smiled again, but his eyes were full of pride and love as he responded.

"Yes, I did. You were riveting, Christine. Your acting was impeccable and you sang like an angel." Christine blushed. She could feel her heart sped up at the thought that he was proud of her. "I was coming to congratulate you…but that _boy_ got there first." He looked at her in a scolding manner. "Didn't I instruct you to not have any contact with suitors?"

"Raoul is…just a friend…."

"A friend whose marriage proposal you agreed to consider." His words dripped with anger and sarcasm. Christine was at a loss for words. His anger scared her. She wanted the man who had sung to her so sweetly and touched her so gently, as if she were a porcelain doll. He enraged so quickly…perhaps he was not the tender soul she had thought him to be? Could this really be the same man that had so selflessly tutored her all these years? A part of her wanted to explain to him that she had only told Raoul what she did because she needed time to let him down gently, while the other wanted to run. It terrified her when he was livid such as this, and she hated feeling frightened of the man she had trusted for so long.

As the seconds ticked by and still she remained quiet, Erik took her silence to mean that his suspicions were accurate. The thought of her with that _boy_ angered him to such a

degree that he felt he could not control himself any longer. He had given her specific instructions to refuse any suitors, and here she was, completely ignoring his commands. After all he had done for her! Yet as he looked at her trembling form, he softened a little. She was cold and petrified of his anger, and it hurt him that he was the very reason she was upset. But what could he do? There was no way he could compete with that Vicomte fairly…the boy was young, rich and handsome, while he barely measured up to any of those qualities….If he allowed himself to soften and let her have any sort of relationship with the boy, she would certainly leave him forever. No…he could by no means permit that to happen….He would have to be harsher toward her to keep her with him, for how could he live without her? He had been alone for so long, and now that he had finally found someone to love who might one day love him back, the world intended to take her from him! Could the universe not even allot him this one small right that every other being on this dreadful earth has?

"The next time you see that boy, you will tell him that you cannot marry him or anyone else. Until you do so, we will not have another lesson." With those blunt and cold words, he turned and left the roof through one of the many passageways he had built himself, leaving Christine shivering in the darkness. As he disappeared, she clutched her arms around herself and tried not to cry. _Was this what her angel was really like?_ She could not stand to be around him when he acted that way…she did not want to feel small and frightened. If she did as Erik had said, Raoul would surely persist. It would not do her any good to refuse him now, if Erik's real self was the way she had just witnessed him to be. She needed time to think. But as she discovered her old friend waiting outside her dressing room with a hopeful, questioning look when she finally ran back downstairs, she knew she would get nothing of the sort.

(A/N): Sorry that took me so long. I actually had this chapter almost finished months ago, but the ending gave me a lot of trouble. I know the ending was a little depressing, but it'll get better, I promise. :D The next chapter is the Masquerade Ball, and I will try to have it up as soon as I can.

About Raoul taking Christine up to the roof to propose, I admit it did not make the a great amount of sense, but don't be too critical; he could have thought it was romantic…it _was_ snowing and everything….I've always liked the roof, but not as much as I could if it wasn't tainted as THE PLACE CHRISTINE BETRAYED ERIK AND SANG WITH THE FOP.  
Oops, Raoul-bashing Sorry. I can't say I love Raoul but I don't hate him. He's annoying, though. Very. Much. So.  
To those of you who haven't read the Kay book, I really suggest you do. Find it in the library or eBay or something, it's worth it.  
Finally, do you any of you want to see something quite a bit frustrating:  
Hits: 281  
Reviews: 10  
…come on, if you've already clicked on it and read it, what's the harm in reviewing? It makes me veeeery happy. And a happy author means less amount of time to wait for the next chapter ;D

Aug. 24th: (A/N): I had the 4th chapter all planned out when I realized I screwed myself over with the ending of this chapter XD;. So I went back and changed the last few lines. I'll have the 4th chapter up soon (no, really XD; ).


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